Nienna
by Bozi
Summary: She was said to be one of the greatest beauties on Middle Earth. Haldir will soon discover what awaits him by the sea, when he accompanies the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien to the island of Cirana, to visit its king and his daughter.
1. Chapter 1

1_**NIENNA**_

_Author__: _Tammy

_Ratings and Warnings__: _Rated R – NC-17, angst, violence, adult situations, no spoilers

_Summary_: An A/U. . . She was said to be one of the greatest beauties on Middle Earth, or so he had heard. Haldir will soon discover for himself what awaits him by the sea, when he accompanies the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien to the island of Cirana to visit its king and his daughter.

_Pairings_: Haldir/OFC

_Disclaimer_: Firstly, for legal purposes of course, I do not own any of the characters, places, plots, etc., created by the masterful J.R.R. Tolkien in book-land or movie-verse. They're just too wonderful for words! Those that I make up however, are my own, and are not to be used without my permission.

_Betas_: Secondly, a big thanks to the people responsible for keeping me in line, my beta pal Oli, and honorable mention to many other beloved friends who have helped lend a hand or just allowed me to bend their ear over the years. You're all the absolute best of the best, for without your inspiration and encouragement, this story might never have taken its wings and flown!

_A/N_: Lastly, I do love feedback and suggestions. I only ask that you please relay it in a constructive, not demeaning manner.

PROLOGUE

Wells and Water…

Someone once said no land was truly safe from harm; from the evils, whether seen or unseen, that wandered the darkest shadows of Middle Earth. And yet safe was her home; a true, inviolable paradise.

Though she had only seen Cirana from within, she heard it described as the lonely isle by others who had witnessed its splendor from across the wide-swept waterway of the Gulf of Lhun. Rugged snow-capped mountains towered above golden beaches, their steep ridges and inclines mingled with meandering streams and shimmering waterfalls. In the early morning and late day sunshine, misty sprays carried high on the swelling sea breeze, casting an ever-changing crescent of vivid color. While upon sparsely-nestled foothills and meadows, a brilliantly-hued kaleidoscope of purple, red and pink wildflowers, native only to her island, peeked up from beneath tall green grasses.

Unlike the treetop homes of her woodland kin, she and her subjects lived in white marble dwellings sprinkled along majestic cliffs overlooking the foreboding waters crashing inward below. Indeed, her father had built an unassailable fortress for his people. The dark, churning waters of the mighty Belegaer cocooned the island of Cirana so as to offer only one way on and one way off the island. Those foolhardy enough to try and breach its shores met with an untimely death via the jagged rocks and violent barrier waves.

Upon the tallest bluff of the city, there sat the largest of all the white palaces. It was the home of King Cirdani.

A relic of high-elven kingship, Cirdani's name was legendary yet elusive to all, including his mainland brethren. Even though few had set eyes upon him, he was greatly rumored to be a king of fairness and love to his subjects, yet unconcerned with the perils of those beyond his own realm. After all, the Dark Lord's dirty fingers had not reached Cirana, its rare beauty remaining as always, pure and unspoiled.

# # # # # #

In the courtyard of the royal castle sat the daughter of King Cirdani, his most treasured possession and as such, his most guarded.

Like her father, her elusiveness was great, for even fewer had been graced by her presence. Her name was Nienna, its utterance said to be softly whispered upon the farthest reaching tides of Sundering Seas, spun into many tales and myths. She was said to be so stunning, her visage emanated a glowing aura that transcended as divinely as the Lady of Light, while the endless depths of her eyes made time stand still and content, and her voice trumpeted all things wonderful, both far and wide.

She was the king's most beloved and sacred – his only child.

The perfect image of a mother lost in the finality of elven death, the princess languished in a beautiful prison of loneliness and despair. Long years slowly come to pass while the little one grew into a beautiful elleth, with hair as dark as raven and eyes as green as the finest emeralds. Each day, seeking peace and solitude, Nienna visited her mother's wishing well, and it was there she allowed her mind full rein, daring to imagine a life emerged in many strange and illustrious adventures beyond her island. With wistful thoughts, she prayed salvation would grant her leave from her gilded cage.

This was her most fervent wish and, by far, her most hopeless. . .

# # #

Lost in deep thought, I turn the small stone over in my hand, briefly studying the slight sheen of dust left upon my skin. Each tiny shard I imagine to be one of many vast lands my horse will one day carry me. I will see creatures so different from the fair elves; mankind, dwarves, ents – even small childlike people known as hobbits! Little do I know of these other races, for I have never ventured past the boundaries of my realm, not even to visit the mainland homes of my kin. I sigh and peer upwards, realizing another day has yet come and gone.

It vexes me that I am unable to feel true happiness or joy, despite the privileges of my station. Though to look at me with pity, that is not what I wish, nor have I sought. Above all, I am proud! Still, in the dark recesses of my soul, I crave freedom outside the fortress of Cirana.

_Wishes are granted only to those most deserving. _

With a heavy heart, I return my full attention to the wishing well. Pushing all thought from my mind, save one, I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and toss the tiny pebble into the well, watching it ripple to life. At last, I free my most fervent wish. . .

While great is the love I feel for my father and my kingdom – of this I am certain – a commanding presence beckons me from the desperate corners of my mind whilst I slumber. I know he is my salvation from the devastating loneliness pooling around my heart, twisting and coiling my life from me. But who is he that visits when I am most vulnerable? Where is he? Never have I seen his face, or felt his touch. Yet still, he comforts me in such a manner so indescribable, I find myself rejoicing when I enter the resplendent illusion my mind has created.

I am Nienna, and this is my tale.


	2. Chapter 2

1_**NIENNA**_

_Author__: _Tammy

_Ratings and Warnings__:_ Rated R – NC-17, angst, violence, adult situations, no spoilers

_Summary_: An A/U. . . She was said to be one of the greatest beauties on Middle Earth, or so he had heard. Haldir will soon discover for himself what awaits him by the sea, when he accompanies the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien to the island of Cirana to visit its king and his daughter.

_Pairings_: Haldir/OFC

_Disclaimer_: Firstly, for legal purposes of course, I do not own any of the characters, places or plots created by the masterful J.R.R. Tolkien in book-land or movie-verse. They're just too wonderful for words! Those that I make up however, are my own, and are not to be used without my permission.

_Betas__:_ Secondly, a big thanks to the people responsible for keeping me in line, my beta, Oli, and also, honorable mention to the many other beloved friends who have lent a hand or just allowed me to bend their ear. You're all the absolute best of the best, for without your inspiration and encouragement, this story might never have taken its wings and flown!

_A/N_: Lastly, I do love feedback and suggestions. I only ask that you please relay it in a constructive, not demeaning manner.

Chapter 1

Normally, Nienna retired to her quarters after dining with her father and his most trusted friend and second in charge, Rana. However, on this eve they were discussing the arrival of Elven kin from the mainland. As her father spoke, she sat in rapt attention as he described with high reverence Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of Caras Galadhon, the towering city of the Galadhrim. She could clearly see an excitement she had never been privy to gleaming in his typical stoic appearance and thus, anticipation filled her in a way she could not yet understand.

Later that night, with stars in her eyes, Nienna lay awake in her bed. In a fortnight, they were to receive visitors from beyond the tall mountain peaks lacing the distant shore – the great misty forest called Lothlórien!

# # # # # #

The next morning preparations for the impending visit began.

Per King Cirdani's edict, their esteemed guests would receive the greatest fanfare known to Cirana. As word spread of the distinguished visitors, a heavy flurry of activity grew throughout the white citadel. The king ordered menus to be drawn and presented for his review and approval. Messengers were dispatched to each island residence to deliver invitations to the welcome ceremony.

Cirdani even began the task of personally preparing itineraries for competitions and activities between the two realms; game hunting, archery and sword challenges, as well as lunches in the palace courtyard and sumptuous nightly feasts. At the behest of Lady Valkana, a bawdy strumpet always seeking the king's favor and attention, special entertainment to conform more to the feminine tastes of the ellith was to be planned. So, to Nienna's chagrin, her father made another royal announcement that nightly music and dancing would be held in the Great Hall, with a masque ball and fireworks on the rising of the first full moon.

Despite her customary aloofness and reserve, Nienna's insides quivered with giddy excitement. Long had she desired to glimpse the world outside her own, hoping to sate the wanderlust that bore deep within her soul. Perhaps she could befriend a member of her visiting kin and discover more about the lands beyond those of which she tread? Would they tell her what it was truly like to stand in a tall, majestic forest like Lothlórien? Oh, she could only imagine how wonderful it must be!

Over the next two weeks as Nienna retired to her quarters each night, she was unable to push those most tenacious longings from her mind. Instantly her thoughts were drawn to her mother's wishing well and what it was she craved most. . .

# # #

_I am told nothing catches hold of your senses like the smell of fresh sea air. But that I do not know beyond certainty, for never have I been further than the bounds of my island home. Yet as I walk along the shore, my feet gliding gracefully across the sand, leaving no sign of my presence, the water's tangy scent fills my head, the wind caresses my hair, and the sound of thunderous waves invade my ears. Even my skin feels strangely affected; tingling and vastly alive with surges of molten energy from the heavens above. I shudder and draw a deep breath, a smile spreading across my lips. At last I concede with some sort of odd-felt satisfaction that. . ._

_Yes, nothing catches hold of your senses like the smell of fresh sea air. _

_Enjoying my usual reverie, I pick up the skirt of my gown and make my way to the water's edge when, suddenly, I am interrupted by the approach of a hunting party. I place my hand above my brow to shield my eyes from Anor's glaring reflection on the surface of the water. . _

_My father is at the head, while following closely behind is Rana and the island's most highly decorated warriors, all awash in a sea of vibrant blues and silvers. _

_Immediately to my father's right is an unfamiliar ellon. He is tall and regally dressed in fine celestial creams. His hair is long and silvery, glinting against the sun's rays as if to cast him in a warm, shimmering halo. As he draws near, his eyes lock with mine. A nod of recognition and respect he affords me as Princess of Cirana, yet I avert my gaze until I sense his passing. Unable to resist the urge to look at his retreating form, I find him to be lordly handsome, proud and masterful. With heightened curiosity, I continue to watch when, to my surprise – and embarrassment, he turns to survey my direction again! Instinctively I step back, mortified his attention has befallen me. Only, I quickly surmise it is not me he seeks after all._

_With a single tilt of his chin, he gestures to someone from the rear. Captivated, my eyes follow his. . . _

_Behind the elf-lord is several warriors, all dressed in forest greens, each with the same silvery-blond hair. While many faces cross before me, each showing me the respect my station dictates, I do not truly see them. No, it is the single rider who has extracted himself from the rest, which holds me spellbound. In a plume of sand, all part the way for him as he approaches. He exudes a great, authoritative presence. His body is large and impressive, and right away my eyes are drawn to his long, silver hair and the manner in which he wears it with a single braid above each ear. Although I am unable to see his face against the blinding glare of the sun, I am quite certain he is handsome, too. His form is taut and rippling of muscle – the great embodiment of sheer power and capability. A fine warrior he surely is! _

_Positioned on the haunches of his equally remarkable steed is the spoil; a large deer, no doubt felled by his longbow. The mere thought of his prowess intrigues me so much I openly stare in amazement. _

_To my surprise and strange delight, just as the others before him, he regards me and I feel my cheeks flaming crimson. He is crowned in a bright radiance of light and, still, I am unable to see his face. I feel the urge to turn and flee, but somehow my feet remain firmly planted to the ground. Although I am left helplessly riveted to him, he appears unaffected, as though a boldly staring elleth is a most common reaction to him. Instead, he rides past me, reaching and adjusting the bow slung across his shoulder. _

_Despite myself, I hungrily follow his every gesture. . ._

_Suddenly, a flashing glint breaks the spell which binds me, yet, I cannot tear my eyes from him. With his back to me, my attention is quickly drawn to the bow resting upon his shoulder. It is black as night and carved from the finest wood I have ever seen. It is decorated with intricate gold inlay designs, sparkling brightly in the sun's last dying rays. Beyond any doubt, it is the most beautiful weapon my eyes could ever imagine! Perhaps it is a symbol of his infinite status, for even it, too, is the very epitome of a seasoned warrior. _

_And again my mind wanders. . . . _

_How many has he killed with that bow? _

# # #

Nienna woke with a start, the dream still vastly fresh in her memory. It was always the same warrior and the same circumstance. Only the slightest details emerged differently in her mind, specifically, the Ellon's position amidst the hunting party. He appeared on the shore of her beautiful Cirana, a tall and commanding presence riding toward her in a plume of sand and blinding light, his face a great shroud of mystery.

Although she knew her dreams well, even while in the midst of them, she always startled when the faceless warrior turned to regard her – his finest weapon flashing before her eyes, drawing her like a moth to flame. . .

And then, there was nothing.

She would awake, feeling anger and frustration that once again her dream had ended and the warrior remained without an identity. As every time before, she concentrated with all her minds might to call forth every detail of her meditative escape. But, as was typical of dreams, sleep slowly shook from her body as she became more enraptured in the waking world, and from her memory the vision faded – save the image of the black bow slung tightly across the warrior's muscled shoulder.

# # # # # #

Two weeks later. . .

It was nearly midday when Cirana's ship, Ardana – named in honor of Nienna's mother, took anchorage in the outer harbor of the island. The long-anticipated visitors from Lothlórien had at last arrived!

One by one, the Lórien elves dispersed from the ship's gangway onto the dock, with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel leading. The Ciranian King, flanked by his second charge and advisors, immediately stepped forward to greet them. Taking the Lady of Light's proffered hand, he bowed low and placed a small kiss upon its topside, his long dark hair fluttering in the quiet sea breeze.

"Lady Galadriel, Cirana welcomes you," he said, gesturing with a broad sweep of his arm to those behind him. Galadriel smiled warmly at her old, dear friend.

"King Cirdani, how good it is to see you."

"Long it has been since last we met, Milady, and yet your beauty shines as bright as always." His beautiful green eyes lingering on her but a moment, before he directed his attention to the Lady's life-mate. The king's expression grew even brighter as he rested his hand against his chest. "And Lord Celeborn, I see you are looking quite well also."

Celeborn returned the gesture in kind, his own smile no less enamored than that of his royal host. "No complaints have I, my friend, for how long has it been when last we saw each other?"

Cirdani seemed to contemplate this for a moment, absent-mindedly rubbing his chin when his eyes bucked up. "If memory serves me correctly, I believe it has been no less than three and one thousand years."

"That long? I did not realize," he added, turning to inspect his surroundings with an air of appreciation. "Never have I seen a more beautiful sea-city this side of the Straight Road. It is truly amazing."

"Thank you, Celeborn," said Cirdani, taking on a more familiar tone. "It was the wish of my beloved wife to live by the sea, and so. . ." he sighed slightly, casting his glistening gaze downward. "As you know, I could never deny her anything."

"Ardana was a fair queen. Many years have settled since her passing and yet I still greatly miss her," Galadriel imparted with a rueful smile, placing her hand on Cirdani's arm in an effort to lend both comfort and understanding. Undeniable sadness filled her, for the queen's death had been a shocking tragedy to all who knew her, but especially the king. And so with a heavy heart she looked about the city, keenly reminded of Ardana. There were small touches mingled quite brilliantly with the island's natural beauty, which echoed the late queen's likes and tastes.

A thoughtful pause soon issued between them when Galadriel cupped her hand under Cirdani's chin and her gaze touched his. In that brief moment she read the true depth of his pain and longing.

"Where is the princess?" she asked with a smile, brightening the dark mood that settled amongst them. "I have heard of her great beauty and grace, and wish to see it for myself."

"She will join us for dinner," he replied kindly, though his expression remained solemn and unaffected. "And as for her beauty," he added with a new found tinge of pride, "she is the image of her mother." The Ciranian King's demeanor seemed to lift and he held out his arm to Galadriel. "Now, you must be weary from your journey. Please, allow me to escort you to your quarters."

# # # # # #

Lightly grazing the sea's surface, Anor was just beginning to set in the westernmost sky, its last waning rays casting a warm, ruddy glow upon the calm water.

In the royal guest quarters of the mighty citadel, Celeborn stood on the terrace admiring the city's blanched beauty. Below him, a soft whispering wind carried up through the surrounding trees, as the close of the day slowly descended and the city burst to life with fresh activity and renewed vigor. The elf-lord smiled his contentment and drew a deep breath of tangy salt air.

The lonely isle did not seem so lonely after all.

Hearing the soft wisps of his wife's footsteps, Celeborn turned away from the waking outer world. Here Galadriel stood before him, looking as stunning as always. "Such beauty and tranquility," he said with a smile.

"Is it me or Cirana that you speak of, my dearest?"

Her eyes filled with a mischief he easily recognized and he moved closer, feeling her aura surround him in welcome. "Always you," he whispered huskily, taking her by the hands and pulling her against him.

"Husband, are you attempting to charm me?" she asked, her melodic voice taking on a deeper, smoother tone.

He could not help but grin. "Always," he repeated, his lips brushing against the softness of her cheek and lastly, her mouth. He kissed her thoroughly and lingeringly. "I can almost see why Cirdani has chosen to spend all his time here," said Celeborn when next they parted, a few moments later. "The island holds a certain enchantment."

Together, they returned to the terrace and looked out over the vastness of the city and water. Seemingly lost in deep thought, the Lady softly sighed and melded closer against her Lord, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Beauty and tranquility," she said quietly, seeming to mull Celeborn's words over in her mind. "I must admit, Cirana is beautiful. But to describe it as tranquil when such unhappiness and unrest thrive. . ." Again she sighed, heavily this time. "Beautiful? Yes, you are indeed correct, my love. But tranquil," she shook her head, worry drawing Celeborn's concern. Curiously, he studied her, knowing his wife's gift of insight was much better than his own – and very seldom was she ever wrong. "Too much pain and despair," she said, pulling away slightly, growing quiet and even more contemplative. "Loneliness and desperation can be one's worst enemy."

# # # # # #

Through all of her adulthood, with little or no purpose, Nienna faced each day never veering from the duties her station dictated. While initially she found the announcement of visiting kin to be exciting and far beyond her wildest imagination, all too soon her doldrums returned. As they always did. She found no joy or reason. Her mind taunted her, her heart crushed and her spirit broken; though to those around her, she appeared to have no conscience, no heart or spirit. To them, she was simply cold and indifferent.

In the darkest recesses of her mind, Nienna contemplated change that would never come, dreams that would never become reality, and wishes that would never reach fruition. Deeper and deeper she fell into despair, depending on the one true companion that remained with her always. . .

Fearful loneliness.

Ever so slowly she sensed her resolve slipping away. Each day poised with new challenges and setbacks, she was certain this new dawning would be no different.

Hearing voices below her quarters, she slipped unseen to her balcony.

In the courtyard she spied a small gathering of ellith. They were standing near the handsome, newly-arrived wardens of Lothlórien. Careful to remain inconspicuous, Nienna listened to the maidens' foolish blathering. They were enraptured in a heated discussion about the silver-haired Ellyn from afar. And speaking of Nienna. . . yet again!

More than once she heard her name mentioned, well aware she was the least favored amongst all the ellith in her realm.

But did they always have to be so cruel?

The princess took particular notice when one elleth commented that Nienna was cold and heartless and the others emphatically agreed. Another called her spoiled and once again, just as before, the others nodded. On and on it continued with each maiden speaking in turn. . .

"Is it any wonder none desire her company? She rarely smiles!"

"Yes! And the poor king, to have such a horrid daughter," to which they all shook their heads and sighed in unison. "I heard he could not secure any betrothals for her."

"Do you surely suppose it to be true? Although I hate to admit it, but beautiful she is."

"Of course it is true. She might be beautiful on the outside, but inside she is absolutely deplorable. No kindness at all, that one!"

"Indeed," the others agreed.

"Why, she even killed her own mother," one whispered, and shocked gasps suddenly erupted between them.

Nienna gasped, too, her hand flying to her mouth before any sound could escape. Her legs trembled and threatened to crumble beneath her, yet somehow she managed to square her shoulders and stand tall. With the back of her hand, she wiped away tears pooling in her eyes and on her cheeks. Until that very moment, she had been unaware of her own weeping. Pain rushed from the deepest binds of her heart and tore through her core. Her mind screamed in anguish and fury as her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. Instinctively, her already shattered heart, thickly veiled by her immense anger, hardened.

She wanted to hit something – or someone, their cruel words repeating themselves over and over in her mind;

_She even killed her own mother. . . _

_Killed her own mother. . ._

_Killed her mother. . . _

_Killed. . ._

_Killed. . ._

Slipping back into the safety and privacy of her apartment, Nienna's legs finally collapsed from under her and she landed onto the floor in a heap. Burying her face in her hands, she wept anew, her mind racing with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. As with previous times, she withdrew from her surroundings, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness and despair.

_Immortality is nothing more than a vicious curse of my kind. All I wish is to die and pass unnoticed!_

However, as quickly as her rage festered, it dissipated until she was left with nothing but hollow bitterness.

_What they say about me is true! All of it is true!_

*** In addition to my beta, I would like to also thank Fireheart for her help with this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

1_**NIENNA**_

_Author__: _Tammy (Bozi67 )

_Ratings and Warnings__:_ Rated R – NC-17, angst, violence, adult situations, no spoilers

_Summary_: An A/U. . . She was said to be one of the greatest beauties on Middle Earth, or so he had heard. Haldir will soon discover for himself what awaits him by the sea, when he accompanies the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien to the island of Cirana to visit its king and his daughter.

_Pairings_: Haldir/OFC

_Disclaimer_: Firstly, for legal purposes of course, I do not own any of the characters, places, plots, etc., created by the masterful J.R.R. Tolkien in book-land or movie-verse. They're just too wonderful for words! Those that I make up however, are my own, and are not to be used without my permission.

_Betas_: Secondly, a big thanks to the people responsible for keeping me in line, my beta, Oli, and honorable mention goes to many other beloved friends who have helped lend a hand or just allowed me to bend their ear. You're all the absolute best of the best, for without your inspiration and encouragement, this story might never have taken its wings and flown!

_A/N_: Lastly, I do love feedback and suggestions. I only ask that you please relay it in a constructive, not demeaning manner.

Chapter Two

After receiving orders from Lord Celeborn, Haldir walked purposefully along the sandy shoreline, as the frothy tide lapped at the supple leather of his black knee boots and fine-corded edging of his crimson cloak. A tall, powerful built elf, Haldir was known far and wide by many titles, a few of which included the unwavering March Warden of the Golden Wood, valiant Captain of the Galadhrim, fair Emissary of Lothlorien, and loyal and trustworthy servant to the Lady of Light and her Lord.

By the docking ramps he sought his three most reliable charges to assist him in assembling and settling the Lórien entourage. They were in the midst of yet another discussion, and as he neared close enough to hear, he paused and frowned.

So engrossed in conversation, they chattered on, completely unaware of his presence. . .

"Lord Celeborn has instructed us to see that everyone is settled comfortably in their quarters, wardens," said Haldir. Three guilty pairs of eyes snapped in his direction. "That does not include mulling over the *rumored* beauty of Princess Nienna."

"We were not mulling, Haldir. We were merely speculating," Valin said.

Haldir's scowl deepened and he felt his patience quickly wane. "It is the same thing," he replied, coolly. "Now, let us gather everyone and proceed to the palace at once. You three have wasted far too much time on this tired subject, and I would have everyone settled sometime before the next full moon."

Thalos, Narien and Valin fell into mischievous grins. "Tell us, Haldir. Are you not the least bit curious to see her?"

"No, Narien, I am not."

"Gandalf said there were none which could compare, that she is as beautiful as the Lady and the Evenstar," said Thalos.

Haldir glowered at the three. "How many times must I repeat myself?" he drawled slowly and deliberately, his eyes narrowing on his charges. "There is none fairer or as fair, as the Lady of Light and the Evenstar. It is purely a myth and nothing more." He turned away, not waiting for a response, when, to his chagrin, they easily fell into stride beside him, still wearing those silly grins. Obviously, his young wardens did not yet realize the thin layer of fortitude upon which they tread.

"But the wizard would not jest about such a thing, would he? After all, he has seen her for himself."

Slowing his hastened pace, the March Warden turned to Valin with a smirk, feeling both amused and irked by his charges' curiosities and persistence. "And as legend says, did he turn to stone, or did time stand still when he gazed into her eyes? Did blaring trumpets sound from all four corners of Middle Earth?" He was clearly referring to the incessant drivel he had endured for no less than the last two weeks of their journey. And so, when his ears met with silence, he resisted the urge to smile his satisfaction. Instead, he scrutinized the three hard, defying any further challenge. The young wardens peered down at their feet with seemingly great interest. "I will say this," he finally offered. "I doubt not she is beautiful, as are all ellith. But she is a Princess and Lady of this isle. Did it occur to either of you that she might take great umbrage to your discussing her in such a manner – not to mention the king?"

The young ellons looked at each other, chagrined. "We are very sorry, Haldir. Truly, we meant no disrespect to the King and his daughter," Thalos said, as the other two agreed emphatically.

Ever-mindful to keep an unreadable expression, Haldir folded his arms across his chest. "Very well, wardens. Your apologies are accepted," he said, watching as the three younglings drew themselves back to their full heights. "However, I want you to remember," he sternly warned. "It is not often that King Cirdani welcomes visitors to Cirana and into his home. And for him to receive us is, indeed, a great honor. So, while we are here as his and Princess Nienna's guests, I will not have my underlings disrespect the Princess' position as High Lady of this realm. No more foolish talk and innuendo. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Haldir," they answered in unison.

# # # # # #

Across the hall from Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel's quarters, Haldir prepared to settle into his own, equally opulent suite. Used for rare-visiting dignitaries, the apartment was certainly befitting of Haldir's own high station as emissary and sworn protector of Lothlórien and its sovereigns. Yet, he felt strangely out of place.

Outside the open doors of his terrace, the soft lull of the sea called him. Cradling in his hand a silver goblet of finely-aged Ciranian wine, Haldir took time to inspect his apartment, finding his bed-chamber especially accommodating. Running his hand along the plush silken coverlet and soft pillows of the large canopied bed, his body was weary and needing rest. He found no good reason or intent to resist its beckoning and sunk down on the billowy mattress. Supping his wine, he placed the goblet on an ornate bedside table and, with a heavy sigh, stretched out his tired frame for a brief mediation before dinner. As he settled himself, he noticed the thick layer of salt and grit covering his skin and travel clothes. Groaning his displeasure, he pushed himself upright and headed to his bathing chamber.

A good while later, when he reemerged, he was freshly bathed and dressed, feeling much more rejuvenated. Pondering his next course of action, Haldir spied a bowl of fresh berries and the half-empty goblet of wine. Sticking the tip of his finger in the clear liquid, he tested its temperature and readiness to drink and, satisfied it still held its crisp, tart flavor, he plucked a sweet berry in his mouth and washed it down with wine.

A gentle breeze plundered inside his room, whispering warmly against his sensitive skin, beckoning him. Stepping outside, he leaned against the terrace railing and for the first time since his arrival, he allowed himself to fully admire the city. The soft, constant sea air invaded his senses and relaxed him in a strangely magical way. Haldir stood for a few minutes more, just content to enjoy the fresh dusk, when once again, his body wearied. Looking back towards his bed once more, he contemplated a brief respite, but since the hour grew late, there was simply no time to meditate. Directing his attention back to the city, from where he stood he could see most of Cirana. Surrounding the palace, beautiful marble dwellings blanketed the hillside, glistening like pale stars against the warm ambers and golds of the low-setting sun.

In the harbor, the Ardana sat anchored; a proud and majestic ship of richly-hued wood and decoration, with her standards billowing high in the wind. Sadness filled Haldir at the thought of Queen Ardana's tragic loss. It was obvious to him that she had been as adored by Cirana as his own Lady by those of the Golden Wood.

Suddenly, his musings were interrupted by a flurry of activity and chatter. The island elves were beginning to gather in the courtyard and disperse in several different directions, mostly inside the palace. Those that chose to linger outside stood in huddles around the many elegant statues and flower gardens, talking gaily amongst themselves. Excitement and anticipation hung heavily in the air.

Just below Haldir's balcony, a small group of ellith gathered. They peered up at him with salacious smiles, whispers and giggles. He merely tipped his chin in response, neither encouraging nor discouraging their brazenness.

The roar of the sea grew louder and more distinctive, indicating the approach of high tide. Reminded of the hour, he inhaled deeply, savoring the unique scents of salt air mingled with what he immediately recognized to be dinner's fresh venison and fish. The city was certainly different than his homeland. It had a vastness the forest did not, even if in truth it was no greater in size than the reaches of Caras Galadhon.

A new burst of feminine laughter reached his ears and he withdrew from his reverie to see several of his wardens entering the courtyard, including Narien, Thalos and Valin. The same group of ellith watched them closely, every now and then allowing their gazes to slide from the wardens to Haldir. They whispered and giggled some more. Not particularly interested, he retreated inside the privacy of his apartment, making a mental note to later speak with his charges about the politics of gentle discretion and entanglement.

Sitting upon the bed, Haldir admired its softness and rich textured coverlets. He found it rather peculiar that he could patrol the fences for miles and miles without so much as breaking stride, yet the journey to Cirana taxed him. Perhaps it was because he took extra precautions to ensure the safety of those in his care, many of whom were unaccustomed to such long hours of daily travel.

It was still a short while before his services would be required, so perhaps he did have time for a brief rest. Draining the last dregs of wine, he placed the goblet on the bedside table and pushed his body up the mattress. For a few short moments he stared at the ceiling. Its' fine coffer design and gold-inlay trim was so different than the natural airiness of his talan, and while he found it to be quite beautiful and pleasing to the eye, it was also cold and impersonal.

Amid the sound of crashing waves from the incoming tide, the ellith's laughter, now mixed with the unmistakable mirth of his wardens, filled Haldir's ears. A long stay it was going to be, he groaned, already reminded of his desire to be reunited with his woodland home and his brothers.

Soon, however, his body relaxed and grew heavier. His thoughts settled on his earliest memories, as it often did right before the first edgings of slumber claimed him. His father and mother, his two brothers, the Lord and Lady. . .

Orphaned as young saplings when their father was slain in battle, and their grief-stricken mother departed for the West, seeking solace and healing. Haldir and his brothers became the foster sons of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, and were furnished with more love, acceptance and comfort than ever they could imagine. As the eldest of the three, responsibility had been heaped on Haldir at a very early age and, true to his dedicated and loyal nature, never did he complain. In fact, he willingly took on the roles of dutiful father, mother, older brother, friend, mentor, punisher and protector. Only, at such a tender age, the weight of those responsibilities served mostly to harden him, often making him appear aloof and cold, detached and distant, and even arrogant and haughty. Yet, entirely thick-skinned, he certainly was not. His innermost feelings left him lonely and despaired, although his sense of duty to those he loved prevented him from showing such weaknesses. He had always been the strong one – even at the expense of his own contentment and sacrifice.

In the citadel, all sounds around him slowly grew hollow and distant, and the last glimmer of day settled over the watery horizon, tinting the sky a calming grayish-blue, pink and lavender. The onslaught of night would soon be upon them. At last Haldir felt the all-too-familiar easing, yet unnerving, sensation of his body releasing itself into the heavy hands of soft meditation. . .

# # #

_Drawn to his body, elegant fingers reached for him only to never quite touch his skin. His breath stilled in his lungs and he fought to control the tremors coursing through him. _

_No, not yet! Patience, he hissed. . . _

_In her, he saw all of his dreams suddenly take shape and lift in glorious raptured flight. No words did she speak. Nor could he see her face. But the familiarity of her stunned him into complete submission. She held out her arms to embrace him, beckoning him to her. And he gladly obliged! Tears fell across his hands – swept from her face. It was the badge of her pain and despair, and to him she bore it proudly. _

# # # # # #

Later that evening. . .

In the entry hall of the palace, all came to attention as the Ciranian royals and their entourage entered with a flourish of pomp and pageantry Haldir had only seen in the courts of human-kind monarchy – and perhaps Mirkwood.

Surrounded by a maddening swirl of noble advisors and friends, King Cirdani stood as tall as Haldir in stature, but lither and less muscled. The elf-lord radiated the very epitome of regal elegance. His dark hair fell about his shoulders and back, the front strands woven through a silver circlet, across his chest hung a heavily-jeweled medallion and chain, clearly indicating his imperial status, while a royal blue robe, black leggings and knee boots encased him in a flurry of heavy velvet, silk and leather. From his vantage point beside the Lady, Haldir watched with his usual air of unreadable scrutiny. Though the king smiled appropriately enough, per the March Warden's keen observation, he was clearly aggrieved and in a foul temper. With precise movements, the elf-lord reached up and gave his robe a quick jerk, his hand donning a mithril crest ring. And as his full attention befell his guests, his eyes…a vivid green…were unable to hide his ill mood.

First Cirdani sought Galadriel, smiling warmly, his gaze immediately lost its hardness. He bowed and placed a small kiss upon her hand, before turning to greet Celeborn with a slight tilt of his head. The consummate host, he asked if the Lord and Lady's accommodations were sufficient, to which they both responded very favorably.

A couple of ellyn to the king's right stepped aside, offering Haldir an opportunity to better see the slight figure standing just behind Cirdani.

Princess Nienna.

Unbidden, his three young sentinels' drivel instantly flooded his mind and he found himself anxious to at last look upon her face, to see if the rumors were indeed true. He felt nearly foolish, however, for already he knew no other could even dare compare to Lady Galadriel or Arwen Undomiel. The rumors were pure folly!

Only, idle chatter slowly faded from his ears, as if somehow displaced and distant, and instead, he heard nothing but the steady beat of his heart. In the muck of his thoughts, he became aware of Galadriel's intense scrutiny, and this greatly disturbed him. Yet still, he remained entangled in his foggy stupor, even when she entered his mind,

_*The moment of truth has arrived, my dearest March Warden.*_

Stunned, Haldir snapped back into the moment and turned to meet the Lady's intuitive gaze. But it was too late, for already she diverted her full regard to their royal hosts. "Princess Nienna, I have been most eager to meet you," she said with a gentle smile.

A tinge of excitement coursed through him as anticipation began, once again, to mount. Still, she stood at such an angle, flanked by her father and another ellon, that she remained hidden to Haldir.

"Your beauty is legendary among your Lórien kin, young princess," Celeborn added, placing a kiss upon Nienna's hand.

At that precise moment, the unknown ellon stepped from his position beside the princess and, finally, Haldir could at last see her face.

She was dressed in a gown the cool shade of glinting mithril, with a matching jeweled headdress. Without a doubt, Princess Nienna was one of the fairest of the fair! If he thought the Evenstar's raven tresses most beautiful, he now stood corrected and completely mesmerized. Just like her father's dark-as-night mane, her silken locks flowed past her hips in sweeping tendrils, accenting the creamy, exotic hue of her skin.

Surely, his own eyes deceived him!?

To his further intrigue, she appeared subdued and perhaps even backward in her expression, as though embarrassed by Celeborn's kiss. She acknowledged the Lady and Lord with the slight dip of her chin, as was proper for one of her station, and when her penetrating gaze flitted on Haldir, she lingered there briefly. Her full, rosy lips tilted upwards in a guarded smile – one that did not distort the smoothness of her cheeks. As he noted her striking green eyes, another trait of her father's, he found himself deliciously bewitched.

Even if only a moment's acknowledgment did she afford him, it was enough to boil him over. . .

Suddenly, a distinctive, masculine voice broke the spell, drawing a disconcerted Haldir's attention. It was not until that very moment he realized he had not heard a word spoken since the princess' introduction. He recognized the voice as belonging to King Cirdani, who had been speaking of his daughter, ". . . Yes, she is very beautiful, as only could she be," he said proudly. "She is the image of her dear mother."

Feeling Galadriel's penetrating gaze, Haldir schooled his emotions and stilled his thoughts, using his efforts to appear indifferent and unaffected.

"Oh my, Sire!" A feminine shrill rose through those assembled. "The festivities are absolutely magical!"

Haldir heard Nienna give a soft, exasperated sigh.

The newly arrived elleth glided past the king's advisors to the royal family. While she appeared nearly the same age as the princess, the manner in which she carried herself suggested to Haldir she had much more life's maturity than Nienna. She gave a silly and exaggerated curtsy to the king and his daughter, as well as the Lord and Lady. Next, from under her long, fluttering lashes, she turned her attention to Haldir, openly appraising him.

King Cirdani seemed pleased with her arrival and quickly introduced her to Celeborn and Galadriel. Lady Valkana was her name, and she was beautiful – as are all ellith.

After a brief exchange of more pleasantries, when the soft aromas of the night's dinner grew stronger and more demanding, King Cirdani announced they should proceed to the dining hall. Smiling sweetly, Valkana wasted no time making her move on the king, boldly hooking her arm through his and patting him softly on the hand.

"Would his majesty care to escort an unattended lady, as is only proper?"

Haldir pondered this, well aware that should the king accept Valkana's request, it would leave the princess without correct escort, and Haldir, as the next highest ranking *available* ellon, would most likely be expected to walk her forward. However, another revelation occurred to him as well – a rather horrible one. Should the king abjure the request, then Haldir would be the next proper escort for Valkana. Already put off by the embolden elleth, he shuddered inwardly. The decision though, was quickly made when the Cirdani fastened her arm more securely to his and bent to whisper in her ear, sending her into a peel of giggles.

Clearly vexed, Nienna, who had been quietly watching the exchange, drew a sharp incensed breath, capturing her father's attention, instantly. Without a word, she glared at the king. Despite her obvious ire, which Haldir easily discerned, her father appeared completely unawares, gazing at her questioningly. Tension built like the fires of Mount Doom when finally, after a brief pause, Cirdani seemed to realize his foolish blunder. It was, however, also apparent the king knew not how to right his wrong, and struggled inwardly to find a suitable and agreeable solution.

"My captain may escort the princess, Cirdani," Galadriel suddenly suggested, turning to Haldir with a sweet smile. The king did not answer right away, seeming to ponder this for a moment when, at last, he gave a nod and smiled at the Lady.

"If it pleases my daughter, then it would please me, Milady." He then turned to Nienna, expectantly.

Although Haldir could clearly see she seethed with mortified anger, she still managed to hide it fairly well. With her royal composure intact, she merely tipped her head and glanced to Haldir. "Of course, it would greatly please me," she said almost shyly.


	4. Chapter 4

1_**NIENNA**_

_Author__: _Tammy (Bozi67 )

_Ratings and Warnings__:_ Rated R, angst, violence, adult situations, no spoilers

_Summary_: An A/U. . . She was said to be one of the greatest beauties on Middle Earth, or so he had heard. Haldir will soon discover for himself what awaits him by the sea, when he accompanies the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien to the island of Cirana to visit its king and his daughter.

_Pairings_: Haldir/OFC

_Disclaimer_: Firstly, for legal purposes of course, I do not own any of the characters, places, plots, etc., created by the masterful J.R.R. Tolkien in book-land or movie-verse. They're just too wonderful for words! Those that I make up however, are my own, and are not to be used without my permission.

_Betas__:_ Secondly, a big thanks to the people responsible for keeping me in line, my beta pals; fellow HL List-Mom Amy B., Vi, Christen, and Carole, a personal friend whom I've been trying to recruit over from Aragorn's ship. Also, honorable mention goes to many other beloved friends who have helped lend a hand or just allowed me to bend their ear. You're all the absolute best of the best, for without your inspiration and encouragement, this story might never have taken its wings and flown!

_A/N_: Lastly, I do love feedback and suggestions. I only ask that you please relay it in a constructive, not demeaning manner.

Chapter 3

As the royal procession settled at their table, Haldir seated Nienna and took his place beside her. He studied the oblong-shaped dining hall and, just as he expected, the room could only be described as the very epitome of elegance. Its focal point boasted an imposing fireplace, with a heavy mantle carved in a way so as to give the impression it was resting upon the arms of winged legends. Overhead stood a coffer ceiling, depicting murals of Cirana and its beloved king and Queen Ardana. The rich ambiance of the massive space was warmly cast with flickering candle lights, shimmering and raining down the ashen walls and upon a dark marbled floor. Wide, high-brooked windows spanned one whole side of the room, allowing the fresh spattering of early dusk to spill inside. Filling the open expanse were gossamer-covered dining tables with gilded candelabra and exotic flower arrangements upon their centers, making the mithril plates, cutlery and chalices sparkle.

The hall rose in quiet chatter as the residents and guests mingled and servers busily moved about, pouring wine and carrying platters of appetizing fruits, breads and cheeses.

Seating at the royal table had been appropriated in an especially small, intimate fashion, so as to encourage plenty conversation. . .

"Sire, how ever did you think of such a thing?" Valkana asked, her long lashes flitting wildly against the tall peaks of her rosy cheeks. She had perched herself to the right of Cirdani, who sat at the head of the table.

"It was nothing, my dear," he replied with a dismissive flourish of his hand. "During rutting season, a crazed beast is much more intent on procreating than that of his own survival. And had he not been thinking with his. . ." Cirdani paused, allowing the heavy air of innuendo. "Again, let me just say it was nothing," he finally supplied with a wink, raising the chalice to his mouth.

Haldir arched an eyebrow, taken aback, while beside him, Nienna softly snorted into her wine. The Princess was sitting with her face turned downward and eyes crushed tightly together, mumbling what he most certainly surmised to be a curse. He resisted the overwhelming urge to grin.

"Oh, yes, Sire, it was indeed something!" Valkana leaned in close to the king. "You must tell me again, how big *it* was," she purred, her breasts spilling forth.

Cirdani returned the chalice to the table and with his finger, wiped a lingering dreg of wine from the corner of his mouth. "It was powerful and magnificent. The beast's rack splayed out and covered with down, so soft and fleshy to the touch – yet solid and firm. It took three shots of my arrows to fell him. And even then he grunted and groaned," he said, his eyes clearly drawn to her ample bosom.

Valkana giggled and twisted rather suggestively in her chair, her attention riveted to the king's every word and action.

"How many points did the rack span, Cirdani?" Celeborn asked from the opposite head of the table. "To have fell such a prize. You have him mounted, do you not?"

All eyes, first drawn to Celeborn, expectantly turned in the direction of the Ciranian King. Only, he did not respond. Instead, he sat gazing upon Valkana and her plump lips, pursed and salacious. Obviously embarrassed, Nienna gave an apologetic smile to her guests and lightly tapped her father on the arm, only he regarded her with an effect of slight annoyance.

"Father, Lord Celeborn inquired as to how many points the stag had."

Cirdani's face immediately brightened. "Ah, yes. It was a respectable fourteen points," he boasted, sitting a little straighter.

"A respectable beast indeed," agreed Celeborn. "Well done, my friend," he added with a nod and raised goblet, joined by Haldir.

Cirana long held a reputation for abundant wild game and rough beauty, and Haldir greatly looked forward to treading its mountainous boundaries. Thus, he was pondering just this when, to his surprise, Nienna turned to him and Lady Galadriel with subtle grace. She merely rolled her eyes and gestured with her hands, indicating said beast was in fact, much smaller.

"Do you hunt, Nienna?" asked Galadriel with an amused glimmer Haldir easily recognized.

"No, Lady, I do not. Father felt it unladylike for me to learn the art of weapons."

Galadriel's frown spoke volumes. "Several young ellith in Caras Galadhron enjoy game hunting and are quite proficient in weaponry," she stated with a slight hint of challenge. "Maybe I shall petition your father about a visit to my fair woods. Would you like that, my dear?"

"Yes, indeed I would," replied Nienna, flashing a rare genuine smile. Suddenly though, her affect changed and her shoulders sagged. She looked deflated. Her conflicting reaction greatly confused Haldir, yet he had no time to ponder it. Someone brushed against his leg for the third time! Initially, he thought nothing of the touch, but now he was certain it was intentional and precise in its delivery. Suspicious by nature, he glanced at the Princess, who was pushing her goblet toward the server for another refill. Haldir found her quite intriguing. All evening he quietly observed her, noticing the easy way her hands touched and smoothed over everything near. Even the elegant manner in which she held her chalice incited his mind to drift, and soon he found himself immersed in images conjured from his mind. He imagined her hands touching him with the same reverence as she had the fine gossamer linens and tableware and−

Suddenly jolted back to his senses, someone touched him again!

He slid his glance under the table, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Could it have been Nienna? She did sit nearest him, after all. Under the thick veil of his lashes, he continued to study her, once again feeling keenly drawn to the delicate movement of her beautiful hands, when her eyes met his and the delicious spell was severed. His lips curved into a guarded smile and he gave her a slight nod before returning his attention to Cirdani and Celeborn, who were immersed in a discussion of the upcoming hunt and challenges.

# # # # # #

As the evening progressed, a slow timbre of strumming instruments filtered in from the music hall. Dinner was served and everyone feasted. Conversation at the royal table flitted upon different topics, including the growing threat of darkness and grim future of Middle Earth and its peoples before, to Haldir's chagrin, veering back to lighter and more mundane matters.

Beside him, Nienna was sitting in such a way that her dark hair swayed lazily over her shoulder and tumbled nearly to the floor in a loose bundle of silken curls. From the open windows, a soft breeze swept inside, carrying a spicy, floral scent which permeated his keen senses. When she slightly adjusted her position, sitting yet a little closer, he suddenly realized the scent was hers. There were no other words to describe her allure, but bewitching enchantment.

By Mordor's curses, once more, he felt the unsolicited touch on his leg!

This time the presence was more emboldened, climbing his knee and between his thighs. Haldir looked up to see Valkana smiling that same plump, seductive smile at him and, instantly, he knew it was she! Careful not to draw any attention, he reached down and non-too-gently, pushed away her foot.

"Is something wrong?" asked Nienna, eyeing him and Valkana curiously. Other than a handful of common pleasantries, it had been the first true words she had spoken to him since their introduction.

"Of course, not," he replied, his expression remaining cool, as always. Yet when he made to slide his chair away in an effort to put more distance between him and the temptress across the table, the Princess' arched brow stilled him. He glanced at Valkana, who sat silently watching the exchange with a pretty little smile on her lips. Haldir found her very displeasing indeed!

# # # # # #

At the conclusion of dinner, the large entourage retired to the music hall. There, seating was arranged so as to face a wide dais, wherein musicians sat softly strumming. Like most of the palace, the walls were void of color and brilliance, save for a scattering of woolen tapestries. The floors were a cool-gray marble and the high ceilings, vaulted. At the head of the hall, on a rostrum, were four elegant chairs reserved for the Ciranian and Lórien royals. Two large fireplaces and several candelabra pitched the room with countless twinkling lights, while a large area had been set aside for dancing, with the terrace doors flung open to make additional room, if needed. Outside was the plain view of beautiful gardens and grounds, and just beyond, the continuous roll of the casting sea.

While Haldir found it all breathtaking, it greatly paled in comparison to the loveliness of the elleth he safely deposited in a seat beside her father, the King.

So it was that he studied Nienna without her knowledge. Indeed, she was as divine as could be, with a warm rosy flush covering her cheeks and a timid smile playing on her lips. Her very image imparted a celestial delicacy and soft-flowing aura so great, Haldir decided he was definitely accurate in his thoughts; she was the most outstanding and exquisite item within this cavernous room.

# # # # # #

It was well into the night when, after escorting his Lord and Lady to their quarters, Haldir found himself still well-rejuvenated from his afternoon respite. Intent on seeing to his charges, he trekked to the guards' quarters on the ground level of the palace. It was here he happened upon Captain Rana, the King's second-in-command. The tall ellon was a warrior of similar stature as Haldir, and like all other islanders, he had long, dark-as-night hair that hung completely unbound against his sun-warmed skin. Having only met Rana when he first came ashore, Haldir knew almost immediately he was a kindred spirit.

"Tell me, Rana, where we are going?" he asked as the good-natured captain led him deeper into the palace, past the kitchens and war room.

At the end of the long winding corridor, they came to a stop in front of a large double-door. Rana turned to him with a wry grin. "Surely you did not think they were the only ones enjoying themselves," he said, pointing to the ceiling above them. "I assure you, my friend, the guards lounge will be much more to your liking than any of the festivities in the music hall."

The March Warden's thoughts instantly fell to Princess Nienna. "It was a rather interesting evening," he commented dryly.

"So I saw," laughed the captain, slapping Haldir on the back. "Lady Valkana has a sure way of getting an ellon's attention, does she not?" Rana teased with a wink, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Haldir hesitated but a moment to ponder this, before deciding that, later, he would ask the Ciranian, exactly, what he meant by this statement.

They entered the room filled with several jovial guardsmen. They were all sitting around small tables littered with tankards of ale and large clay jugs of richly potent elverquisst. As he and Rana meandered through the crowd, Haldir could see that several of his guard joined their Ciranian counterparts, their faces stiffening and paling as they looked up to see him. It was in a far, dimly lit corner of the room where Rana and Haldir settled at a table. The location was within a perfect little alcove to spy on the others.

Within moments a Ciranian sentinel deposited a couple of full pitchers and two tankards on the table and, with a nod, he smiled and disappeared. Filling the tankards with ale, the captain pushed one toward Haldir, who, feeling parched, wasted no time draining his at once, much to Rana's amusement.

"Tell me about this elleth, Valkana."

Captain Rana gave him another grin and proceeded to refill Haldir's tankard. "Let us just say Lady Valkana is the farthest thing from a _Lady_."

"That much I gathered," replied Haldir. "And she and the king, what of them?"

Rana looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "She has shared his bed a few times. Nothing more," he said, taking a healthy swig of his drink and studying Haldir through bright blue eyes.

"Is that wise?"

"Most likely not. But my king is crafty, Haldir. Overlong has he been alone in this world – and lonesome he is – a fool he is not. He realizes what she is and where her intentions lie. He just does not deny himself the pleasure of her company." The Ciranian then shrugged. "Surely, you must agree she is a fair and inviting elleth?"

"Indeed so," Haldir gave a nod, leaning back in his chair and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

"Many years it has been since we have had visitors to Cirana. It is always nice to hear news of the world outside," Rana said, tactfully changing the subject.

"Do you not travel to the mainland?"

"Only when is necessary for supplies. Since Queen Ardana's death, my liege has chosen not to travel abroad so much. He feels it is safer to remain in Cirana, especially considering Princess Nienna."

His interest suddenly piqued, Haldir straightened and leaned in to rest his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Is it true she has never been past the waters of her own realm?"

"Yes, it is. She is Cirdani's most precious treasure and he keeps her close."

"Her name is well-known in Lothlórien."

Rana chuckled. "Ah, so the legend of Princess Nienna still lingers on the mainland." Then he, too, leaned in closer and leveled his eyes at Haldir. "Tell me, March Warden, do you find the legend to be truth or folly?"

Just as Haldir was about to respond, a roar of laughter suddenly erupted. Both he and Rana looked up at the commotion. Haldir's chin nearly dropped in surprise; it simply could not be. Here, of all places? No, his mind deceived him in the worst way! Maybe he had drank too much? The wine and now this, he mused, picking up the tankard and looking inside, before raising it to his nose to smell. Ale. It was only ale.

Elves and chairs began to scoot around at a table to his far left, obviously making room for the new arrival.


End file.
